


Title tbd

by AzuleOpal



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, more tags to be added don't worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzuleOpal/pseuds/AzuleOpal
Summary: Hercules Mulligan wakes up on a Saturday morning in February like any other, not expecting any of what is to come.He really should have, honestly.HEY IF YOU’RE READING THIS ON FANFICTION POCKET ARCHIVE LIBRARY AND PAID FOR NO ADS, PLEASE REMEMBER YOUR MONEY IS GOING TO SOMEONE WHO IS BREAKING U.S COPYRIGHT LAWS AND STEALING THE WORK OF THOUSANDS OF WRITERS ON AO3 AND WE’RE NOT SEEING A PENNY. PLEASE COME TO AO3 AND SHOW YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT TO THE WRITERS WHO PUT EFFORT INTO THESE WORKS YOU ARE ENJOYING. THANK YOU. -AzuleOpal
Comments: 12
Kudos: 3





	Title tbd

**Author's Note:**

> This is long overdue.
> 
> This chapter, I was playing around with imagery and playing with the five senses. Nothing really happens but it's important. idk. Enjoy.

Hercules wakes to the sounds of birds. They chirp merrily outside his window, and though they do little to cover the sounds of cars and exhaust fans, he appreciates the effort.

"Good morning, New York," He mumbles. He stretches with a smile, relishing the sunlight streaming onto his bed.

He braces himself for the chill, late-February air, then hops out of bed. He quickly puts on a King's College sweater that he had gotten during his time there. He pulls open the curtains of his kitchen window, puts on his weekend playlist and turns on his coffee machine. The news he scrolls through is full of pictures of people wearing masks, empty store shelves and slowly mounting numbers. He sighs and puts his phone down, deciding to make himself breakfast instead. His favourite, french toast.

He calmly cracks a couple of eggs in a bowl. The shells make a satisfying sound against the rim of the bowl. The coffee machine whirs loudly as it works. Hercules whips the eggs lightly, his fork skittering against the bowl. He butters the pan and it sizzles, threading a lighter scent into the darker smell permeating the kitchen. Coffee patters noisily into Hercules' favourite mug, a dark blue one, with a needle and thread on the front and the words "And sew it goes" in loopy writing. Hercules drops an egg-covered piece of bread into the pan, which hisses and sizzles anew.

While he waits, Hercules takes a careful sip of his coffee. He thanks the gods that he had been able to find a machine with a built-in milk-and-creamer, activated by the press of a button. He enjoys the creamy, comforting warmth of his Saturday morning coffee. It's almost as good as the kind one can buy from a coffee shop. When the first toast is hot, fragrant and ready, he switches it with the second, cool bread. He holds his steaming mug and leans back against the counter as he waits. The cool, rounded countertop is smooth and familiar on the small of his back. He closes his eyes and smiles, relishing the serenity of this moment, living peacefully.

Once his breakfast is ready, he sits down to eat. As usual, the maple syrup-covered meal tastes like pure joy. Beside him, his phone vibrates. There's a notification for a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Herc please open the door  
Unknown: if you're home  
Unknown: please be home

Hercules' blood goes cold as someone knocks on his door.


End file.
